I’m really getting no RESPECT around here. And unlike that greedy Aretha, I don’t even need the whole word. I’d settle for a little R.E.S.P. Or these days, maybe just the “R.” 1 year-old Summer is a full-on, don’t-even-look-at-me-if-your-name-is-not Rick Folbaum, daddy’s girl.
At least, I can usually count on my girl, 3 year-old Dylan, to give me the sugar. But today she passed on our special alone time to hang with Kira, the babysitter. Kira is a ball of creative, energetic fun, but hey, look at me, I’m your super fab mama. Dylan, are you listening? Kira, can you get Dylan’s attention for me?
And I do A LOT of gritty work around here. Summer made another gigantic, turbo poop. Her number 2 is more like 4 or 5 these days. It was just before bedtime, so once I got Summer scrubbed down, I popped the two girls in the tub. Moments later, little drips of poop started surfacing. (Note to reader: I know this is totally nauseating. Stay with me. We’ll get through this together. Don’t abandon me now.)
“Dylan, GET OUT OF THE TUB.” It was “Caddyshack” (unfortunately without the Baby Ruth) as I desperately tried to evacuate the waters. I wrapped Summer in a towel as I waited for that nasty bath water to drain. And of course, her gratitude was plentiful. Summer proceeded to poop again – this time in the fresh, white towel. At that moment, I was grateful for a huge stash of wipes, a washer/dryer and wine (all in the apartment).
But as you all know, Dylan takes care of her potty needs. Quite of few of you were interested in that portable potty. Here it is. Of course, this pic is not Dylan. Just some poor sap who will probably still be known in high school as the “potty boy.” Well, he sure does look happy now, going potty in the street and all. I hope he got paid a lot of cash. You know his parents spent it all on fancy meals and not a cent went to his college fund. I mean, that’s what I would do.
Let’s move on because there has been quite a bit about bodily fluids this week. Really more than I can handle. And people, we’ve got a presidential race going on. I don’t really discuss politics at home but I did put on coverage of the New Hampshire primary on Tuesday night to see what was going on. Dylan was SHOCKED that I turned on the TV for something other than Elmo or Mr. Rogers and was very inquisitive about the whole thing.
Dylan: What’s this?
Me: It’s the New Hampshire primary. These are the candidates who are running for President.
Me: President. The President is the person who leads the country. Our country is the United States.
Me: Our current President is George Bush.
Dylan: George Bush?
Me: Yes, George Bush is the President.
Dylan: George Bush? Yuck.
I don’t know where she came up with the idea that George Bush is the equivalent to broccoli or spinach but apparently that’s how she feels. I’ll let you know if she shares anything about the current field of presidential hopefuls. Right now, she’s off to do some polling and perhaps nominate Kira, the babysitter.
mama bird notes
Our beauty girl Alex is here with an amazing product for those dry winter hands. Just click on drooling over this to read more.
Finally, need a little feedback from other super smart mamas on this crazy job called child rearing? Or advice on anything else that’s stressing you out? Just email me your question or problem and I’ll post it under askamama. Questions can be anonymous.